


Pinch hits for Spamano Secret Valentines

by Vodka112



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Fantasy, First Meetings, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-04-24
Packaged: 2019-04-27 03:48:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14417031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vodka112/pseuds/Vodka112
Summary: Two short fics for Spamano Secret Valentines.One: Blacksmith!Romano and Pirate!Spain.Two: Beauty and the Beast crack!fic





	1. Blacksmith!Romano and Pirate!Spain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi @lluviadinoche! Your valentine is a bit late this year, so here is your pinch hit Valentine! It’s more medieval and fantasy than historical. Also, it has Pirate!Spain. I hope you enjoy it!

The sea water is calm.

Romano takes the pitcher from the clay pot outside the forge, dips it into the cool water of the pot and dunks the contents on top of his head. The summer sun is fierce today and with the fires of the forge, dumping water on himself is all Romano could do to keep fresh.

The thunderstorm three days ago had ravaged their tiny fishing village and the neighboring settlements besides. It had led to some interesting commissions from various farmers up north. There are countless requests for nails and brackets to mend fences, borders and gates. While it’s true Romano’s services are free for the citizens of the kingdom (as was written in his annual commission contract with Farmer-King Roderich the Strict), it doesn’t mean Romano can provide the metal needed for these repairs. He’s running low on the ingots spared for townspeople. Sooner or later, he’s going to dip into the stock for the Protectors of the kingdom.

He had already sent requests for more metal from the Farmer King, but it’ll take a while to receive his reply.

Romano dips the pitcher back into the pot and drinks the refreshing liquid. He doesn’t even finish drinking when something pointy pokes his back.

“Put the jug down. Slowly,” says a growly voice from behind him.

Romano lowers the pitcher from his mouth and dips it into the pot. Then he splashes his attacker with water. The other man stumbles, sword in his hand flailing every which way. Romano doesn’t get a good look at the stranger’s face before he’s running down the hill towards the makeshift armory, where he can either hide or choose a weapon to defend himself.

It is all for naught. The stranger had inhuman speed. He runs down the hill, outpacing Romano, and knocks him down with a swift strike of the flat side of his sword. He turns over and tries to push himself up, but the stranger’s sword points at his neck.

Romano’s gaze travels up the sword and towards the stranger’s face. However, on the way there, he notices some important details. Namely, the sword.

It’s made of iron and decorated with silver and gold. It’s the strongest and showiest combat sword Romano had ever made, created for the express need to impress the Master Smith of Warrior-Queen Elizaveta’s castle. It was his final grand project, forged from the Hearth of Kings and smelted with material hand-picked by the Queen herself.  
(Then he got shipped to his first assignment here, in a tiny kingdom by the sea, and he went from being a sword smith to village smith.)

He’s been saving the sword in case an opportunity comes knocking: like an aspiring warrior with enough gold coins to spare, or a magician who can infuse his masterpiece with the power of the elements, whoever first swings by this village on the cliffs.  
He never thought his own creation would be used against him.

“That sword costs a thousand crowns of gold,” Romano says.

The stranger blinks at him, green eyes disappearing under brown, matted hair.

“Your life is hanging by the strength of my arm,” the stranger replies. “What makes you think I won’t kill you first?”

Romano gulps. The man isn’t lying; the sword is literally worth its weight in gold and silver. He had meant it to be a little unwieldy, reliant on its bearer’s strength to lift. Its beauty is in the way it swings, how it follows the movement of the arm and the intent of the bearer without sacrificing the power of its assault.

Inspecting the stranger’s body, Romano finds his build more than adequate to wield the sword and carry its weight, had he not been too skinny with hunger and wane with fatigue. It must take most of his will to run after Romano and swing the sword. Even now, the man’s arm must be straining under the weight.

Romano’s eyes fall naturally on the hand clasped around the leather hilt. He had tanned that hide himself, cured it and cut it for cushion against counter blows.

The man’s hand holds steady, not a tremor in sight.

Romano has no doubt in his mind that his sword must have finally met its match, but couldn’t the man be a wealthy warrior prince instead? As it stands, Romano can’t afford to lose a gamble with his life, much less lose his favorite sword.

“I’m the only smith in the village. If I disappear, someone will look for me, and when they do, they’ll find you,” Romano answers.

The man’s eyes turn impossibly green, almost glowing. Then, to Romano’s surprise, he drops on his ass and laughs. “Of course! The village people would rather spend their time looking for a young, errant smith, than tending to their land.”

Romano loses not a second getting up. He grabs the sword and, with both of his hands on the hilt, places the point against the other man’s neck.

The man was still staring at his face. “I can’t think of a worse crime to take such a pretty face from the world.” Then he collapses on his back. “Do what you want with me, O mighty forger. With no ship and no mates, there’s no way I’m getting off this island.”

“Who are you?” Romano asks.

The man smirks. “I’m the Green-Eyed Scourge of Glomaria.”

His words make the hair on the back of Romano’s neck stand.

“But you can call me Antonio.”


	2. Beauty and the Beast Crack!fic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beauty meets Beast for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi @romanope !
> 
>  
> 
> This is your pinch hit valentine. I am so sorry, we have absolutely no idea where they are or what’s happening to them right now. Also, sorry for the lateness! It was tricky trying to pick which of your prompts to write about because they’re all so good! This one isn’t exactly historical, and its more fantasy, but I hope you like it anyways.
> 
>  
> 
> Belated Happy Valentines!

Once upon a time, there was a prince in a faraway kingdom. He was as handsome as he was brave, and as kind as he was handsome. The get away here is that he was handsome. Very handsome. So handsome that he can’t get past the castle gates unaccosted by any passersby. Maidens would swoon, Madames would faint and older aunties would pinch his cheeks. There were pats on the back from the menfolk, shoves from the younger squires and tantrums from clingy children. It’s just unbecoming of this kingdom!

Ahem, that’s why when the Prince’s favorite fairy came by, he asked to be given a wish: to make him into a horrible beast so ugly no one would ever want to be near him at all.

This was all well and good but the further the troubadours get from the kingdom, their powers of artistic interpretation rises dramatically. And so it has come to pass that any person of noble birth wanting to test their mettle would immediately be told the story of the horrid Beast and be sent on their way to slay the damned creature.

That was how Antonio met Romano.

* * *

Antonio fought his way out of the winter-chilled thicket deep in the forest. He was freezing. His sword burned a brand of frost on his back. He had spent the last of his coin on the ship fare that took him all the way to Italius. He hadn’t cared about the destination at the time, (he was too busy evading members of the mercenary guild that sold him off to Lordess Greta) but now he wished he did.

 _Italius_ was a kingdom settled on land reaching out to the sea, on the edge of the Great Empire. They spoke little Standard Speech and Antonio had not met a single personage of higher ranking that cared enough about news from the heart fo the Greater Empire.

All they seemed to care about was the Beast.

In his attempt to earn a place to eat and sleep, Antonio had promised the innkeeper a single rose from the Beast’s garden in exchange.

The innkeeper only shook his head and handed him a map Antonio swore was made from rat hide.

Antonio, the fool that he was, never broke his promises. He’ll complete this one quest to thank the innkeeper before going on his way.

He cursed when a tree branch tore through his sleeve. He had to get out of this cursed forest first if he ever wants the chance of snatching that rose. If he had to kill the Beast, then so be it. Perhaps he can return the beast’s head for a bounty.

He did think it odd when there were no notice about the Beast anywhere in the tavern.

There, up ahead, lay a gate made of stone, its wooden doors spread wide, practically inviting for a mercenary like Antonio. He picked up his pace. The gates didn’t waver nor go further, like most castle protections were wont to do. He was all but spit out by the forest and slowly made his way across.

The castle was normal looking from this far. The grounds between the castle and the gate is massive and decorated by fountains, almost as if this was a pleasure mansion instead of a siege castle. Maybe that was why the people in this kingdom seemed peaceful. They’d never had to fear attacks on land from neighboring kingdoms.

Antonio went to investigate the right side of the castle. The map said the garden was in this direction, so he went around the castle and past a small stone bridge over a brook, to get into what seemed like the rose garden. Besides, there were signs pointing the way.

A stone wall covered by vines burst into view as he went around a corner. A flat-faced boulder on the ground proclaimed it: “The Rose Garden - Keep out!” The vines were thick but brittle, so Antonio had to use his wits to climb the wall and get to the other side.

The smell of roses almost threaten to overwhelm his senses. The flowers were in full bloom, despite the season; its leaves spread thick and verdant as if its mid-summer. Antonio’s gut tensed. The garden reeked of magic.

The castle gate had no magic, and yet this garden did. Antonio had not gotten lost in the forest, no matter how far left he went. Then, he had promised the innkeeper one rose, despite not knowing about the rose garden before that moment.

He wasn’t liking this at all.

But… a deal was a deal, and Antonio never broke his promises.

He plucks a rose next to him with one of his smaller knives, the cold making it harder to hold. That’s when he hears it, a soft whimpering noise.

Someone was crying.

It was such a pitiful sound, full of anguish and despair. Antonio dropped the rose he was holding and walked into the garden.

There was a figure slumped over a small fountain under a canopy of thick vines, making it hard to see. Their sobs melt with the bubbling sounds the fountain made. Antonio took a step closer before coming to himself.

He had only meant to take a rose. How… when did he get here?

There seemed a quiet voice in his head urging him to do things, to comfort the creature by the fountain. Antonio clutched his head.

“No! Shut up!” he shouted. Then, with his heart filled with fear, he gripped his sword and lunged.

The creature let out an howl no human could ever imitate. It grabbed its back with a fist that resembled a paw. Antonio kicked it’s back, sending it sprawling to the ground outside the canopy, before holding his sword on the top of the creatures head.  
He froze. The creature had looked up at him with tear-filled eyes, begging with his green gaze, surprised and hurt in turn.

And Antonio felt that they were the same.

He, the mercenary, once belonging to a house, now betrayed and hunted by the very same brothers and sisters in arms that he would have laid his life for.

The creature, in its docility and moment of emotional vulnerability, hunted down by Antonio for nothing but a rose and a rumor.

Antonio took in heaving breaths, thinking clearer than he had since he set foot in this kingdom. The sword was still in his hand, pointed still at the creature’s neck.

He jumps back, taking the sword with him.

“Who are you? What is this place doing to me?”

The voice that answered him was surprisingly scrawny.

“It’s the curse, you dumb fuck! Why did you hit me with a sword?! I should have you p-put in the stocks for this!” the creature said, rising to his clawed feet, dressed in a suit of deep blue and gold. Two curled horns protruded out of the curling hair growing on its head. He also wore a crown, its jewels sparkling under the sun.

Antonio raised his sword and the creature… man… The Beast cowered away, curling on itself and crying out in pain.

“What curse?”

The Beast whimpered. “The one I brought upon myself and my people. It led you here because you… you…”

Antonio pointed his sword at the Beast.

“Only you can break the spell! Please don’t hurt me!”

Antonio frowned. Breaking spells were nasty business. Magic, unless infused in one’s weapons, were so unwieldy and beyond what humans could comprehend.

The Beast continued to look at him hopefully.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“Antonio,” came out of the mercenary’s lips before he could stop himself. The Beast’s bright green eyes were compelling. He shifted his gaze to the Beast’s crown.

“I’m the Crown Prince of Vitalius and Lord of…” (Antonio spaced out around this part, since the man started listing his titles in a lot of places.) “Romano…” (Antonio spaced out around this part too. Royalty loved giving their children too many names.) “…di Vargas.

“Let me hire you, Antonio,” Romano continued with a surprising quiver in his voice. Antonio only now noticed the blood trickling down his side and on to the snow covered ground. “Break this curse while preserving my life and, by my blood, you shall have whatever you ask of me.”

Antonio blinked. That was pretty tall for a noble prince, but then again, Antonio had nearly killed him… can still kill him. “What proof do I have that you’ll keep your promise?”

“My back,” Romano mumbled, “It burns. The physician’s quarters is in the East Wing. We’ll remain unperturbed here for a while yet; My people know not to disturb me when I’m here.

“I can die here, branding you a killer of the heir to the throne,” he said, pointing at his crown, “and you’ll be persecuted all the way to hell. Or you accept my hire and we both get out of here alive.”

Antonio still wasn’t convinced. “Why am I the only one who can break this curse?”

Romano faltered, his legs trembled and he slid down to the ground in a less than graceful manner. His face turned tomato-red and his cheeks kept puffing in attempt to answer the question.

Antonio took pity on him. “If you say it quick enough, it won’t hurt as much.”

Romano turned an even deeper shade of red. “It’sbecauseIlikeyou.”

Antonio blinked. “What?”

“You’re my type, you bastard! It’s a true-love kind of curse!”

Antonio blinked again.

“Oh god. I’m gonna bleed to death and die as a monster.”

Antonio huffed. “You’re not going to die. It’s only a scratch.”

“Only a scratch-! I’m bleeding!” Romano wailed.

Antonio stepped closer, and closer, and closer still. He got near enough to haul the Beast– Romano, upright against his shoulder. “I suppose I shouldn’t let you die. Who knows, maybe the rumors are true and you actually look handsome under all that hair.”

Romano spluttered and complained as they made their way out of the secluded garden.

 

END

Terms, though not necessarily factual:  
Italius - Italy/Vitalius  
Lordess - title of a female Knight.

 

 


End file.
